


In the midst of winter

by St_orygirl



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Brutality, Death, Dragons, F/M, Incest, Jonerys, Platonic Relationships, Protective Siblings, Romance, War, snowborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12284475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_orygirl/pseuds/St_orygirl
Summary: My take on Season 8. It's a Jonerys centric fic but other characters will get their spotlight as well.The great war is coming. But it's not so easy to focus on it when you're overwhelmed by revelations and love ...





	1. Realization

**Author's Note:**

> I published this chapter weeks ago on Tumblr and fanfiction.net but now I have finally gotten my AO3 account yey! So if this chapter sounds familiar to you it could be that you read it there ;-) 
> 
> For all new readers: This will be a Jonerys centric fic but other characters will get their spotlight as well. The first chapter starts with Jon and Dany’s famous boatscene afterwards it will be basically my idea of what could happen in Season 8. Hope you enjoy :-)

_How do you tell someone that you’re in love with them?_ The thought lingered in Jon’s mind. He had tried to push it away, to not even think about telling her. But in the evenings, when he had spent another day in her presence and he was alone in his chambers, it returned with full force. Today was no exception. Especially because she had agreed to travel with him by ship. There were no spots to escape to. No long halls separating him from her. Nothing that made it easier for him to keep his distance from her.

So he didn’t. He was tired of fighting his own feelings, tired of convincing himself that she didn’t feel the same way. Because most days now he caught her looking at him with an expression in her eyes that matched his exactly.

He came to a halt at her cabin door. Now that he stood in front of it, nervousness swept over him like a wave. How would she react upon seeing him at night in front of her chambers? Would he damage their alliance beyond control with his actions? There were a handful of possibilities how this could turn out and he felt slightly stupid just coming here but there was no turning back now. All of him longed for all of her.

His knocking was loud and firm. He needed to do this. He simply couldn’t not do this. With a rapidly beating heart in his chest he waited for her to open. And it jumped slightly when she finally did. The emotions that crossed Daenerys face, a combination of surprise, fear, fondness and above all a knowing look, revealed to Jon that he had been right. She felt the same. The truth of that crept through his whole body and soul, it dried his mouth of all words and filled his heart with longing. He would never be the same again. His life would be separated in before her and after.

Daenerys opened the door even further, only a small gesture but a clear invitation for him to enter her cabin. He didn’t need any more validation, her gaze and her actions made him bold. With a few firm steps he walked inside and closed the door. Never taking his eyes of hers. They didn’t need any words to fortify what was happening between them. They had known this was coming, had known it for some time now, they had simply feared the truth.

But in the end it was inevitable.

The door closed with a dull thud and left the room silent, the only sound lingering in the air was their heavy breathing full of nervousness and anticipation.

 _How do you tell someone that you’re in love with them?_ The question surged through the surface of Jon’s mind again. But every sentence he could think of didn’t feel right. Maybe there were no words that could fully fathom what someone was feeling. Maybe everything they needed to know was written across their faces. No words, no explanations, just eyes filled with storms of emotions.

One last look at each other and they no longer tamed the storm, they let it free and clashed their lips together in one unbridled uproar of affection. Her lips were soft and warm and tasted of sweet wine. The feel of them against his own awakened his whole body with sensations he had thought died with him in that fateful night at the wall. But here he was somehow alive, a Bastard named King, and hopelessly in love with his queen. It was hard for him to comprehend how all of this came to be.

They broke the kiss only to get some air. Gently he laid his forehead against hers and breathed in deeply.

“Dany.” he called her by the nickname he had given her in his head weeks ago. He still couldn’t form a whole sentence, but he put all his affection into this single word.

***

She held on to him, one hand buried in his locks, the other rested firmly at his waist and looked up to him. The way he said her name made her whole body shiver. His voice felt like a caress, like a blanket keeping her warm in the midst of winter.

She couldn’t point out the exact moment she had fallen in love with him. Maybe a part of her already fell when he had entered Dragonstone for the first time and watched her with this big brown eyes of him. But in whole it had been a process. Slow in the beginning, but faster when she got to know him better and after some time she had fallen so deep, that there was no getting out of it. Not that she wanted to. The way he made her feel … God she didn’t know she could feel like this and it scared her.

She had wanted to be his queen, to appear strong, wise and graceful and be respected by the King in the North. But instead he had cut her open and she had shown him her vulnerability, her pain, her fears. All things she covered neatly in front of everyone else. But with him she hadn’t really had a choice. It felt natural to share these things with him. To let him see her this way, to finally be Dany again for someone.

Jon wasn’t like any man she’d ever met. He was honest, loyal and stupidly brave and deep down she knew that he would never hurt her intentionally. He was a good man with a soft heart in a world that constantly tried to change him into something harsh and cold.

She brought her lips to his again. Dany wanted him to know, how much he meant to her. How desperately she wanted this too. How much she longed for him and his touches. So she kissed him slow and tender and he responded in the same unhurried pace. Together they got lost in this emotional kiss, still no need for words, solely each other.

***

They both wanted to take things slow, to fully admire and worship the other but they couldn’t. For weeks they had denied themselves what they wanted and now that they were done pretending and had fully acknowledged what they felt it was impossible to stop. They undressed each other quickly with shaking hands until they finally dropped naked onto the bed. An entangled mess of two bodies.

Jon laid on his back, his left leg bend, his hands cradling her head, pulling her closer. Her slender body fitted so perfectly in his hands, as if it belonged there. As if his hands weren’t only build to wield swords and fight enemies but also to hold her. To touch her gently and make her feel special, desired, loved.

Her hands roamed his body, touching the scars that had brought him so much pain and made him feel something else entirely. He still hadn’t told her the truth about those. That he had died and that, almost, they would have never crossed paths. It was a part of his past he wasn’t fond of explaining but somehow Jon knew that she already sensed the truth and someday he would tell her the whole story. But not tonight. Tonight wouldn’t be about tales of death and treason, on the contrary it would be about being alive and really connecting with somebody.

Their kisses grew even hungrier. When she withdrew her lips to catch a breath, he chased them, not able to lose touch for too long. But he needed more. They both needed more, their bodies throbbing with need, their hearts ready to take this even further. In one swift motion Jon turned Dany on her back and thrust into her. All doubts he had ever had about this extinguished and replaced with lust that rolled over his whole body. Both of them moaning in pleasure before they kissed anew. He was united with her in the most intimate way but still he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her lips on his. And she reciprocated the feeling, chasing his mouth and touching him gently. And the sounds that escaped her lips… God, to think about that he was the one that evoked this reactions, put his soul on fire.

Jon couldn’t help himself but to look at her and she welcomed him with her soft eyes. For a few seconds they forgot to move, lost in each others gazes. In their love. Because that’s what this was. There was no denying it. Not anymore. They were in love. Earthshakingly, beautifully in love.

In this moment time did not stand still but for the first time Jon and Dany understood what people meant when they said, one single moment changed their lives forever.

He slammed his lips down on hers again, kissing her almost desperately and she responded eagerly. Pulling him to her, claiming his mouth as hers. Both absolutely overwhelmed by their emotions.

With every thrust of him, with every brush of his lips against her own Jon carved himself deeper into Daenerys soul. She had not known sex could be like this. She had had good sex before, that made her enjoy herself and left her satisfied but sleeping with Jon awakened all her senses. Everything was so much more intense. It was as if the world shrank to this small cabin and left only room for them. All she could think about was Jon, all she could feel were Jon’s touches, all she wanted to do was making love to him.

After a while he put his hands under her back and sat up, taking her with him. When they both settled she sank down on him again. Dany could see the sweat on his forehead, noticed it on her own skin melding with his. They were pressed together wherever they could, both thoroughly committed to this, trembling with need. Slowly she began to ride him, holding on to him, burying her head in his neck. But it wouldn’t stay there for long, since their lips couldn’t stay away from one another tonight. He met her halfway, kissing her fondly even though their other movements became more and more fierce. Heat had always been something, that wouldn’t bother her. But in his arms she felt so hot she thought she could burst any given moment.

And right before she did, before they both fell, her eyes found his again. Unable to stop staring they guided each other to their highs and came undone together.

***

Tyrion pulled himself a drink and sank down on his chair at the great table in the common room in the middle of the ship. Forcefully he brought the glass to his lips and swallowed it’s content whole within seconds. Feeling the liquid burn in his throat and warm up his chest made him already feel better. It wasn’t that he resented what was going on down the hall. He genuinely liked the two young people and he would have wished them to find love if there hadn’t been a great war heading straight for them.

 _In times like these emotions were dangerous._ They could cloud your judgment and let you forget your duty. And he needed his queen and the King in the North to focus on the task ahead not on each other. They hadn’t even told him that Jon bent the knee and it almost cost them Cersei’s support in the great war. Information like this was essential to him if he was to advise them properly. He would’ve to make sure that they’ll seek his advice next time and not just each others. As clever as both of them were, they were no strategists. But he was and they needed him whether they wanted to or not.

Abstractedly he topped of his glass and took another sip of the strong and soothing alcohol. He was scared, a fact even the drink couldn’t change. Daenerys dream of the future, of the broken wheel, was his dream too. But with every passing day his confidence in their ability to fulfill it wavered. And not only due to the danger lurking beyond the wall also because his queen slipped out of his reach. She had accused him of ill planning and defied his counsel several times. With that he could live but on top of that she had started to change, to grow harder, to burn unarmed men.

_And with that he couldn’t live._

Their dream was to break the wheel not to merely turn it into a different variation of it. Of course she was far from Cersei’s cruelty but nevertheless she grew more ferocious. He just hoped that if he didn’t get through to her in the future Jon would. Tyrion knew, that he was a good man who didn’t use brutality where it wasn’t necessary. Maybe this was a good thing that could come out of their liaison, perhaps Jon could tame her Targaryen fire a little bit. He kept on like that for an hour. Pouring himself drink after drink his thoughts wandering in circles.

“She’s with him.” a voice came from the other end of the hall. In the shadows of the dimly lit room Tyrion could make out the silhouette of Jorah Mormont.

“She is.”, he confirmed and pointed to the empty glasses on the side table.

Jorah didn’t need to be asked twice, within seconds he poured himself a drink and sat down across from the queen’s hand.

“Jon’s a good man.”, Jorah said, gulping his drink and trying not to sound sad.

But Tyrion knew better. He had seen the way the man looked at Daenerys and he must have finally accepted that she would never reciprocate his feelings.

“That he is.” Tyrion agreed again. It didn’t happen often that he found himself in a situation in which he didn’t know what to say, but this was one of those rare occasions. Were there any words that could console a broken heart? Would it do any good to share his mixed feelings with the loyal knight of the queen? So he kept his mouth shut and refilled their glasses. Alcohol couldn’t solve any problems but it sure as hell made you forget about them for a while.

***

In her arms it was easy to forget about the winter and it’s dangers that were starting to engulf them. It was dawn, the boat and most of its passengers sound asleep but Jon had woken an hour ago and after a dreamlike night the reality was crashing back in with the harsh light of the winter morning. They couldn’t stay here forever, wrapped in each other, her soft skin on his callous one, and forget about their duties. As enticing as it was. He felt her steady breath grazing his chest, her firm heartbeat pressing at his side. She was a glorious reminder of life and what they did last night made it clearer than ever to him what they were fighting for.

_Nevertheless they needed to fight first._

She stirred in his arms, slowly awakening from her deep slumber, her eyes searching for his. When they finally locked, she looked at him with a soft expression on her face. He had been aware that last night had changed things for good, but he hadn’t been sure if a part of her might regret giving into her feelings, in the morning. But to be looked at like that by her dispelled all concerns. Instead a pleasant warmth filled his body, starting in his chest, spreading from there into every corner of his being.

“What now?” Jon asked her, voice hoarse.

He wasn’t asking for the big answers, like how to kill the Night King or how to take the Iron Throne. He was asking the small question. Should he stay or should he go before the whole ship awakened? Her eyes lingered on him, watching him closely. His gaze fell to her lips, even though they had spent the whole night together, he was yearning to touch them again.

“We will win the war.” she finally answered and a low chuckle escaped him.

“That’s not what I meant.”

For a moment Jon thought she hadn’t understood his question but then her hand took his and entangled them, one finger with the other. Although it was a simple gesture, it send a shiver through his whole body and he breathed in deeply. She stared at him with a determination and fire in her eyes, he had seen before but never directed at him. It was one of the many things that made him fall in love with her. She was strong-willed and passionate. And to be the one to cause it made him kind of proud.

“We will do it together.”

The last word danced like a promise over her lips. A promise of love and a shared future.

“Together.” he squeezed her hand lightly. And then he couldn’t stop himself anymore. He needed to kiss her again. So he did.


	2. Winterfell

The snowflakes drifted to the ground in a wild dance, sticking almost invisible to Dany's white winter coat and her silver hair. They’ve been on the road for days now, riding through the landscape which was mostly hidden beneath a white blanket of snow.

Winter was here. No doubt about that.

With it came the cold and soon the undead, but still it looked marvelous. But the most marvelous sight was the man beside her. Covered in his thick fur coat, snow shining like bits of bright ash in his dark hair and an upright position on his horse’s back he looked all like the Northern King he was. Since they’ve been on the mainland she yearned for him and his touches. They’d slept several times together on the ship but since they traveled by horse it was difficult to steal some private moments. Someone was always watching, especially Jorah, Davos and Tyrion who eyed them with interest. They had probably already discovered what was going on between their King and their Queen. But nevertheless Jon and Dany decided to keep a low profile. They didn’t exactly want to keep it a secret but they didn’t intend it to be the center of attention either. With that would came questions they didn’t know the answers to. Not yet or at least they weren’t ready to speak them out loud. The only thing regarding Jon that she was absolutely sure of was, that she was madly in love with him. Some days this feeling still took her by surprise. For example when they hid in a corner to steal a kiss. Wasn’t that the behavior of lovesick children? Was that how rulers should act in a time of war?

But it just didn’t feel wrong. Quite the opposite, being with him felt good. Like she was finally at a place where she belonged.

All her life she had longed to return to Westeros thinking that it would mean to return home and when she set foot on Dragonstone’s shore a voice in her mind whispered the liberating word to her. _Home._

But now, when she was with Jon, not just in a physical way but also when they talked, laughed, even argued, the whispers started again. _Home._

She had never been to Winterfell, never traveled these roads before, but due to Jon nothing of it seemed foreign.

“We’re nearly there.” Davos voice broke her out of her thoughts. He appeared beside her on his own horse a small fatherly smile on his lips.

“At last. Another day on this horse and my balls would be squashed for good.” Tyrion joked from behind her, eliciting a bemused smile from Jon. He shot it only to her and she couldn't help it and retorted with her own.

“Aye. Nearly there.” Jon reassured him.

Not long after, the group gathered on a hill looking down on a snow-capped castle with eased expression on their faces.

They’d made it at last.

Winterfell.

***

Jon’s heart warmed at the well-known sight. He had spent many years away but no matter how far he would go Winterfell would always be dear to him. Particularly the people who lived there. His siblings. His family. Just the thought that they were waiting down there for him filled him with joy.

Firmly he grabbed the reins and led his horse down to the gate. The two guards positioned directly in it let him pass without hesitation but he noticed the big eyes with which they regarded the army of Dothraki and Unsullied behind him. Not to mention the two Dragons circling about the soldiers heads in the distance. He envisioned himself through their eyes. Their King, a northern man throughout, who set off south against the advice of his people and returned with foreign allies and deadly creatures at his back. It would be hard work to convince them that this was actually a good thing.

“Welcome home your grace”, they welcomed him nevertheless respectfully and Jon thanked them politely before riding into the courtyard.

It didn’t take long and the whole place was crowded with people greeting their King who at long last returned home. So many faces, so many smiles directed at him. But he only looked for one. That of his young sister Arya. Of course he loved all of his siblings but Arya had always been the one closest to him. For such a long time he had thought he would never see her again, that their paths had irreversible been severed but today they would proof fate wrong.

More and more people gathered in the court, some of his lords among them. And it didn’t escape Jon that they observed the silver-haired queen beside him with suspicion. They couldn’t see the armed armies positioned outside the gate or the huge Dragons resting beside them. But the presence of the southern queen alone awakened their disapproval. He wished there would be an easy way to make them realize what a good ruler Daenerys was. How brave and strong and righteous she acted. But in the end they would need to see it with their own eyes to fully understand it.

He lost the thought, when a head of ginger hair attracted his attention. It was Sansa who slipped ladylike through the crowd, all men making way for her. She must have represented him well in his absence. At her side he spotted someone else and even though she was already moving fast at him and therefore he couldn’t make out all of her features he knew instantly who it was. His heart leaped. Arya. Involuntarily he took a step forward whilst she pushed herself deftly through the masses until she was finally free. He opened his arms like old times and she didn’t stop for one second. With the biggest smile plastered on her face she leaped straight into them.

_Arya._ Her name echoed through his mind. Arya. It actually was his little Arya. He sighed in relief and held her even closer. God, she had gotten so big! She was still small compared to other women but the last time he had hold her she had been a little girl. A tough and fierce one but nevertheless a little girl. Now she was all grown up.

“I’ve missed you”, she said into his ear.

And her voice reminded him of the past, of the family they used to be and the people they had lost. His heart ached in nostalgia. It had never been easy being the Bastard of Winterfell but nevertheless it had been simpler times without the fate of a whole nation in his hands.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Jon hugged her tightly, inhaling her familiar scent and for a single moment he was just happy that life had finally brought them back together again.

They needed a moment but eventually they let go of each other and Jon welcomed Bran and Sansa instead. The people around them observed the family reunion patiently but Jon knew that they waited for him to explain certain things. He turned around and his eyes locked with Dany's who gave him a subtle but encouraging nod. With three measured steps he was back at her side and addressed the crowd.

“This is queen Daenerys of house Targaryen. I know the relationship between house Stark and House Targaryen hasn’t always been easy. But we’ve decided to not let the sins of our ancestors dictate our future.” Jon’s gaze scanned the numerous faces around them. They listened to him curiously.

“She is here to help us fight the war against the White Walkers and the Undead. With her armies and her Dragons we finally stand a chance against them.”

That was the easy part, telling his people that they’d get help. But now came the hard part, admitting that he had bend the knee. That he made this queen his queen and therefore their queen. A southern woman they didn’t know. His heart was beating fast out of nervousness but after everything he had been through he had learned to overcome it. So he swallowed all his shakiness and continued to speak.

“You have named me your King and put your trust in me to lead you. And I intend to do that as best as I can. So please trust me when I say that Daenerys Targaryen is our best chance not only to win this war but at a peaceful future afterwards.”

He paused and looked directly at her. And it somehow calmed him even further. She was their best option at a good future, at a future at all, he firmly believed in that.

“She’s my queen”, he concluded firm but soft. They were surrounded by hundreds of people and yet in this second they exchanged a look that was entirely their own. He had already pledged himself to her. First on the boat after they had captured the wight and then in the Dragonpit when they tried to convince Cersei to help them. But to do it a third time in front of his people added a whole other weight to it. He chose her. Proudly and for everyone to see.

And deep down in the corners of his heart that belonged entirely to him, not to his nation or his sense of responsibility, he wanted to give her an altogether different vow too.

But then the moment stopped and all hell broke loose.

***

Arya observed the Great Hall closely. It was stuffed with the Northern lords and their followers on one side, Sansa and Bran on the other at a table and Jon and his adviser right in the middle. The atmosphere was heated and the visual separation of the groups reflected their detachment on the matter of the Dragon Queen.

Daenerys herself had held a speech in the courtyard, telling them that she didn’t want to conquer the north, that she wanted to save it. Arya found that she hadn’t appeared mad at all, like so many people whispered in the villages since rumor spread that the Daughter of the mad King had landed in Dragonstone. On the contrary her speech had sounded wise and calm. Passionate yes, but the passion seemed to come from the heart not from a broken brain.

The people however hardly listened to what she had to say. The moment they had realized Jon accepted her as the rightful queen they demanded a private meeting with their King.

They had gathered in the hall and Jon had told them about Daenery’s achievements. He had tried to make them see why he had bent the knee, but the lords already had their opinion and it was unlikely that it would be changed solely on words.

Arya’s eyes wandered over to Jon. He had changed immensely since she had to bid him farewell all those years ago. The shy boy she had known was gone and in his place stood a confident man. She’d always thought that people underestimated him, that they quickly disposed him as a Bastard and didn’t give him a second glance. And to see that he proved them all wrong filled her with pride. And unlike his lords she trusted his decision-making. He would never follow a queen who didn’t have the North's best interest at heart. Additionally there was another reason she was willing to like the queen. Someone else might not have noticed it but Jon regarded her with soft eyes. And his soft eyes were reserved solely for the people close to his heart. What let her to believe that Daenerys Targaryen was special to him.

“She’s the daughter of the mad king! She can’t be trusted!”

It was the same argument over and over again and Jon sighed in resignation. Arya could imagine how he felt, to have traveled for weeks, to arrive home hungry and exhausted only to have to deal with stubborn subjects.

“He would be dead if it weren’t for her!” Sir Davos voice cut through the noise. It was the first time he spoke since they’d gathered here and suddenly all ears were on him. “Cersei would’ve never agreed to send troops to help us. The wight they captured to convince Cersei Lannister, they captured it together. He and his men were trapped beyond the wall. Surrounded by thousands of undead and she sacrificed one of her dragons to save them.”

Jon looked at him in surprise. It was clear to Arya that the two shared a deep bond. They could almost pass of as father and son.

“She’s not mad.” Jon added calmly but pleading, now that his people listened. “She has a good heart. She’s no queen who sits on her throne and judges her people. She’s right amongst them. Fighting alongside them. For them. She commands thousands of deadly soldiers and two fire-breathing dragons. And she’s willing to fight for us.”

It was apparent that his lords still weren’t convinced but at least they they weren’t shouting anymore.

“I understand that it is something you are worried about because you don’t know her. I was too. But then I saw with my own eyes who she is. What kind of a ruler she is. So I’m just asking you for a chance. Let her prove herself to you.”

It was quite a speech. Likewise passionate as Daenerys’ but the difference was that this one came from their King who led them so far competent and Arya recognized that the furiousness of some lords started to fade.

“She’s not our enemy. Our enemies are the undead and they’re heading straight for us. Right now we shouldn’t worry about who’s our King or who’s our Queen. We should be worried about our survival. So the next time, let us gather to prepare for the war and not fuss about who rules a land that might be destroyed if we don’t defend it.”

He finished his plea, his eyes burning with determination. Since Arya had arrived at Winterfell she had heard many tales about the man Jon became. The titles he held, the battles he had fought, the different races he had united. But nothing illustrated it so well for her like his demeanor in this meeting. He was born to be King whether he himself believed it or not.

“You are the King I chose”, an altogether different voice echoed through the hall. “Daenerys Targaryen won’t change that.” It was Lyanna Mormont. A young girl between all these grown up men and yet she was the only one bold enough to speak. “But you’re right, your grace, we need to concentrate on the war ahead.”

Arya couldn’t contain the big grin appearing on her face. She liked this girl. And the other lords seemed to hold her in high regards as well since one after another nodded in approval. She didn’t need to see more, she could imagine how the rest of this discussion would enfold. Besides the warrior in her demanded to be absolutely sure, that her feeling towards Daenerys didn’t betray her. That’s why she sneaked out of the hall and went to appease her curiosity about this woman her brother thought so highly of.

“Well, it was expected that they would be reluctant to accept you.” Arya deciphered Tyrion’s voice, when she leaned against the door to the chambers that were given earlier to the Queen.

“It is a major change imposed on them. They’ll need time to get to know you.”

That was Varys. She remained where she was, listening closely. In all her years she had found out that she could get a lot of information out of people if she just kept an open eye and ear.

“We need to make sure you are safe here, your grace.”

This voice she didn’t knew so she expected it to belong to the only other man inside Daenerys circle. Jorah if she recalled correctly. There was an edge in his words as if it wasn’t just about the Queens safety. It sounded like there was something else bothering him.

“Jon wouldn’t let me stay here if I were in danger.”

That was clearly Daenerys. So he was Jon to her. Not the King or Lord Snow. And she wasn’t doubting him for a second, saying the words in a calm but insistent manner. In the short time they had spent together they obviously must’ve grown close, reasoned Arya.

“He seemed a little bit preoccupied nowadays.” Jorah again. And like before his tone adhered a moroseness.

“Is there something you want to tell me to my face, Sir Jorah?”, Daenerys asked him coldly. She obviously recognized the undertone as well and disliked it. Arya could only guess what was really the topic of the conversation. But to her Jorah acted a lot like he was jealous.

“No your grace. Forgive me”, he backed down, as if he only now recognized his behavior.

A few seconds passed but eventually they got on with a different topic.

“So what are we going to do about the rejection of the Northern lords?”, asked Varys. And without hesitation and a confidence that could only be called brave in this situation Daenerys responded.

“I’ll show them who I am.”

They were talking some more after this. Wondering about the North and the coming war. Nothing in peculiar but afterwards Arya was sure of two things. The first was that Daenerys Targaryen indeed came to rescue the North and the second was that she most definitely wasn’t an ordinary queen.

***

Dany stood in the doorstep to Jon’s chambers and watched him affectionately. He leaned against a chair, sighing deeply and she cogitated how he must be feeling. Defeated probably, exhausted definitely.

After the meeting with his lords he had come to her, telling her and the others that the Northerners were willing to postpone any further discussion about their leadership until the end of the war. They all knew that it was a fragile agreement that could diverge any given moment but it was better than nothing. They simply didn’t have time to concentrate on a greater extent on it.

Dany knocked lightly at the wooden door, making herself known. They probably should get some rest after their long journey. All of her advisers had already retired for the night. But she just couldn’t stay away from Jon, now that there was a chance to catch him alone. To talk to him in private, not just exchange intimate glances through a group conversation. To look at him and not conceal her emotions due to other people watchful eyes. To touch him again, not just a brush of fingertips but genuinely touch him, where her fingers, her lips and her skin longed to.

He lifted his head in irritation at the disturbance but the emotion quickly changed into something softer. After days of stolen glances it was liberating to be regarded with this special gaze of his again.

“I’m sorry that you’re in a dispute with your men because of me”, she said, entering the room. Like Tyrion had said, she had expected, that they would be furious and although she was proud that Jon stood so unyielding behind his decision to bend the knee, she wished he wasn’t the one right in the middle of this quarrel.

“Don’t be. They just need time, that’s all.” It put a slight smile on her face that he still got consoling words for her even though it had been her intention to comfort him. Without asking she closed the door and he responded like a moth attracted to the light and let go of the chair to draw nearer.

“I can understand them. They don’t know me“, she admitted, when he stood directly before her. Carefully he interwined his fingers with hers and her heart skipped a beat, pleased that she was finally able to feel him again.

“But they will”, he reassured her. “Just like I did.”

“I hope not as good as you,” she mocked and he smiled at her. It was jaded and just grazed his eyes. Much like hers. It was all they could conjure after a day like this. Gently he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her even closer to him.

“Not as good as me,” his voice was close to a whisper and he leaned his forehead against hers. Their warm breaths mingled in the small space between them. However it wasn’t enough to still her need for him. So she put her hands on his chest, knowing about the once fatal wounds concealed below his clothes. They were a stark reminder of how fragile life was and of how death had nearly claimed him long before she even knew his name. Some days, when they were lying in bed in the middle of the night, nestled up into another and told each other what they’d been through she almost felt that it was destiny that had brought them together. And that it had a plan for them. But she always reminded herself that this idea was foolish. This world held no room for fortune and all their plans could crumble with one unerring blow of the undead.

Her hand lingered over the place where his heart was located and she noticed his firm heartbeat underneath her palms. All they had with certainty were moments like these and she cherished them, absorbed every detail and tried to lock them away in the deep corners of her mind for when she would need them. When he would be out there on the battlefield and she high in the sky above him.

He let out a shaky breath at her touch and pulled her even more closer and she permitted it without any hesitation. Their lips were already drawing nearer and he sighed despairingly when they finally touched. The sound made her heart ache and her body warm up.

As a northern man he sometimes radiated a roughness but never when he was with her. He was always tender, even when he was assertive. Through all his kisses and touches she could always feel how much he loved her. Even though he had never said it out loud. He said it with his lips when they brushed feather light over her body, with his fingertips when they traced her curves, with his breath hot against her skin, with his whole body worshiping hers. That was exactly what she yearned for, for days now.

It was a long time ago that she had last felt the pang of loneliness. After the heartache she’d had to suffer to have lost her child and her husband, she’d tried to ban it from her emotions. But being with him made her question whether she had not really been lonely all the time. Because now she most definitely wasn’t.

“Tomorrow we should gather our men and prepare them for battle”, she suggested. After the soft kiss it might seem something improper to say. But that's who they were, unable to shake the queen or king off of them for too long. There was simply too much at stake, too many lives in their hands to forget about it.

“Aye. I will call a meeting in the morning.”

They were still pressed together, lips just inches apart ready to be reunited any moment but a sudden knock at the door startled them and they quickly pulled apart. Within seconds they both put composed expressions on their faces again and Jon asked the late visitor to come in.

A burly man with a kind face opened the door.

“Sam.” Jon exclaimed joyously and went to hug his friend. It was a wholehearted reunion and Dany couldn’t help but be happy for Jon. She had seen him be familiar with Davos at Dragonstone but it was nothing compared to the reunions she had witnessed today. When he had seen Arya his whole face had lightened up. She clearly held a special place in his heart. Dany had seen it in his eyes. And his other siblings, Sansa and Bran, the way he had embraced them tightly. He genuinely loved all of them. She hadn’t seen him be so intimate with anyone else before. It gave her an idea about the man he was before the war and wished to be when it was over. Caring, good-hearted, loved. And it was her most selfish wish to be a part of this future. Of his future. To be one of the people he cared about, to be someone who nurtured his good-heart and she wanted to be the woman who loved him. Who shared her life with his. Irreversible entangled. Together.

“It’s so good to see you.” Sam smiled in an well-nigh coy way.

“It’s good to see you too”, Jon declared and let go of him to introduce her. “Sam, this is Daenerys Targaryen.”

“Oh.” Sam stammered and wiped his hands on his trousers as if they would otherwise be too dirty for the hands of a queen. “Nice to meet you.” They shook hands and he added “My queen?”, as if he suddenly remembered.

“I already like him”, she said jokingly to Jon and shot his friend a sincere smile.

“This is Sam Tarly a good friend of mine.” Jon explained in a good mood. But the moment Dany heard Sam’s last name she couldn’t maintain her’s.

“Tarly?”, she asked agitated.

“Yes, Miss”, Sam responded.

At his validation Dany felt like a weight had been suddenly dumped on her shoulders. She had never questioned her decision to burn the Tarlys not even after Tyrion pointed it out several times. It had been right to do it, there had been no other option to strengthen her position. She had found no joy in doing it but she had to do it nonetheless if she wanted to be acknowledged as the rightful ruler of Westeros. In the end it was not possible to save a Kingdom permanently if one appeared weak, ready to be dispossessed any given moment.

But a part of her was sorry that she had robbed Jon’s dear friend of his remaining family. But now was not the time nor the right place to admit this. So she just said,

“Nice to meet you too”, and let go of his hand.

“What are you doing here?” Jon wanted to know, clearly a little perplexed to find his friend at Winterfell. “I thought you were happy at the Citadel.”

“Not entirely”, he mumbled. “So I thought I could help you in your big battle”, he looked expectantly at Jon and Dany. Clearly excited to join them in their undertaking. And Dany got an inkling why he was Jon’s friend. He seemed like an honest and nice person, almost too pure for this world. She exchanged a knowing glance with Jon who clasped his friends shoulder.

“We appreciate it.”

And then Sam took a deep breath and said something that would change their lives forever, even though they didn’t know it then.

“And Bran and I need to tell you something. Actually it concerns both of you.”

***

Jon entered the chambers of his little brother with Dany at his side. He had no clue what Bran and Sam wanted to talk to them about. But his nervousness rose due to Sam’s mysterious words.

“I’m glad you’re back.”, Bran welcomed him. All his siblings had changed in the years they had been apart, that much he could already sense in the short amount of time that was granted to them today. Jon had heard that Bran became the Three eyed raven and his new skills had already helped them in their fight against the Night King. But to actually see his brother being this mythical creature was a whole different thing. The boy he once were was entirely gone, a change not just induced by a lost childhood. Bran seemed closed off and distant, - less human and it broke Jon’s heart.

“I wished it would be under other circumstances”, Jon answered and stepped closer to get a better sight of his brother. He was seated in a wheelchair in front of the fireplace. And except for a few candles the flames were the only source of light in the room. They danced and cast shadows on the walls and their faces, causing a nearly eerie atmosphere.

“I’ve waited for you to come home”, Bran said, watching the fire. “There’s something you need to know.” Slowly he lifted his head, his gaze switching between Jon and Dany.

Whatever it was that he needed to tell them Jon didn’t like the heaviness with which Bran and Sam approached the information. He feared that it wouldn’t be good news. Was it something about the Night King? What had Bran seen?

“We’ve lost the wall. The Night King and his army broke through yesterday.”

His first impulse was to look at Dany. Funny how he hadn’t known her a year ago but now her gaze was always the first he searched for when he was in discomfort. Her eyes were opened wide in surprise and he probably looked exactly the same.

They’d lost the wall already. He had hoped they would have had more time before the collapse of their most valuable protection. The clock had always been ticking behind his back with everything he had done these last months. And now time was unarguable running out.

Dany was the first to gain her composure back.

“But how?”, she asked calmly.

This time it was Sam who answered and even before he spoke Jon recognized that Sam was sorry for what he was about to say.

“They have your Dragon. They brought it back from the dead and burned the wall down with it’s fire.”

There were few things that could choke Dany up, she invariably attempted to stay strong but Jon knew how much she loved her children and how badly it had pained her to lose Viserion. To find out that he had been turned into a lifeless shell, into their enemy shook her to her core. It was barely noticeable for someone who didn’t know her so well but Jon detected it in the way the fire in her eyes flickered and she swallowed hard. In an attempt to comfort her he grasped her hand. He wasn’t even thinking about doing it, it was a reflex and out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Sam’s momentary astonishment by the intimate gesture. Who was he trying to deceive? Everyone could read his affection towards her from his eyes, he was that bad at hiding it.

“Does anyone know?” Jon asked. He tried to sort his jumbled thoughts and spot the next necessary steps.

“Not yet. We wanted to tell you first.” Bran explained calmly.

Jon nodded. They needed to make a plan fast. Not just a vague idea of how they wanted to fight against the undead with their armies and their dragons but a real strategy. They needed to know everything, how far the undead had already marched, which route they were taking.

“We’ve built weapons and armors and garnered food.” Sam chimed in. “Your sister Sansa supervised everything with a close eye. We’re ready for battle.”

That was a relief. They were prepared which meant they stood a chance. He was still holding Dany’s hand, somehow it grounded him in this harsh reality were they would have to face an army of the undead soon and yet it calmed him in equal measure, knowing that they would face it together. But then she squeezed his hand lightly and let go.

“So we just need a strategy how to defeat them”, she spoke out what he was thinking. Her moment of vulnerability was gone and back was the fierce warrior queen.

“Aye.” Sam agreed.

“Than we should gather our best men right at dawn and make one.” Amazed Jon watched how Dany took all her sorrow and anger and turned it into powerful determination. “We will fight them. And we will win.”

She meant what she said and although Jon wasn’t the most hopeful one he wished downright desperately that she was right. That they would win this war and that both of them would come out alive of it. That there was a future he could look forward to.

“Aye”, he agreed. “We gather at dawn. You need to tell us everything you’ve seen, Bran and if you have any more visions you need to tell us right away.”

Bran nodded his head in compliance. And for a few seconds Jon thought that this was what they had wanted to talk about. He pictured himself back in his chambers, in his bed, sleeping soundly with Dany in his arms, both of them gathering strength for the coming war. But then Bran spoke again.

“There’s more you need to know”, he declared.

“It’s not about the war.” Sam added quickly.

A strange feeling took hold of Jon. Maybe it was Bran’s urgent tone or Sam’s nervous gaze. But everything they had told him so far tonight hadn’t been what they’d actually wanted to talk about. A lump built in his throat and his heart pounded faster. They wouldn’t act like this if it wasn’t something important.

“I’m not your brother.” Bran ultimately stated like a matter of fact.

The words scurried through Jon’s mind but he couldn’t grab them. He surely must have misheard.

“What?” he breathed the word out and shortly after he felt Dany’s fingers clasp around his again. Bewildered he waited for an answer. There had to be some explanation for an absurd statement like this. But Bran’s next words were not the ones he wanted to hear.

“Ned is not your father.”

“That’s not possible”, Jon denied instantly. His mind unwilling to wrap around the idea, that Ned who had even acknowledged him as his Bastard could lie about his parentage. He had been a honest man. An example of honor. All his life Jon had looked up to him and tried to follow Ned’s lead. Why would he willingly raise a kid that wasn’t his own and harm his reputation and his marriage with it?

“It is, Jon.” Sam clarified with a sympathetic expression on his face.“Bran saw it all in his visions and I have found proof in one of the books from the Citadel.”

The noise in the room ebbed away, Jon couldn’t hear the crackle of the fire or the men outside, just the breathing of the four people inside this chamber. His own and Dany’s right beside him. Both of them quicker than usual, somewhat tense. Sam’s across the room. Slower but noticeable agitated. And Brans’s right in front of him. Regular and calm. Just like his voice when he said.

“Your father is Rhaegar Targaryen.” At the mention of her brothers name Dany's hand twitched inside his. “You’re the son of him and my aunt Lyanna Stark. You’re not a bastard. They were married.” Bran paused a moment and Jon could just stare at him blankly. Unable to do anything else.”You’re the heir to the Iron Throne.”

At this moment Jon remembered how he had been laying on the cold ground at the wall, his blood leaking out of his body staining the snow a deep red. The feel of his lungs slowly collapsing, the struggle to draw another breath, the stinging pain all over his chest. All the noises fading little by little, his vision growing blurry with every other second. He remembered how it had felt to die.

This was similar.

He wouldn’t die at Bran’s words but his life would be altered forever. Exactly like it had been when he had been brought back from the dead. The day he had left Winterfell to take the black he was an insignificant Bastard, today he suddenly held the most important position in Westeros. Heir to the Iron Throne.

_He wanted it to stop._

Would his life ever be his own? Things just kept happening to him. And he was always, always in the crossfire. He didn’t want any of it. He hadn’t wanted to be King in the North, nor to be King of the Andals and the First Men. The Iron Throne was Dany’s. She was the rightful heir. Not him. Dany. Thinking her name another realization set in. Her brother was his biological father.

“Jon?” Sam’s voice called him. He emerged from the chaos of his thoughts and found himself still inside Bran’s room. Carefully watched by three people close to his heart. But looking into their eyes was too much. Everything was just too much. Sam’s caring gaze, Bran’s attentive eyes, Dany’s hand in his. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her.

At his aunt.

It was just too much. In one brisk motion he let go of her hand, turned around on his heels and stormed out of the room.

Life was really fucked up.


	3. Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me (in Jon Snow's voice): I'm sorry. I'm so sorry …. that it took me forever to update.

_Lies. Just a sentence of untruth cleverly presented and men fight each other and burn whole kingdoms down. Lifes forever destroyed due to a few words. Weapons may have the potential to kill a body but words hold the power to murder humans. Outspoken death sentences, verbal disputes, truths and lies. But lies not just kill. They can harm you in a different way. Interfere with your life, mold it into something unrecognizable. And the worst part is that you aren’t even aware of it. You don’t know that you are living a lie. And therefore, - when you finally learn the truth - , your entire world comes crashing down._

That’s how Dany felt. She had spent her whole life in foreign countries, expelled from her own land _due to a lie_. She was still in the chamber with Bran and Sam. The cracking of the fire the only sound after Jon’s tempestuous departure. All of them kind of worn out after the life changing conversation that took place just minutes ago.

“Can I see the book?”, she asked Sam. It wasn’t that she accused him of lying but more so the fact, that she needed to see it with her own eyes to process it faster. Her thoughts were rambling. Jon was a Targaryen. He was the heir to the Iron Throne. The wall fell. The Night King turned Viserion into a monster. These informations overcame her like a surprise attack and she couldn’t decide on which news to linger first.

“Of course. I’ll fetch it for you”, he answered and left the room. Leaving Dany and Bran the only remaining people.

“He just needs time.” Bran stated after a few seconds of silence passed.

It was the second time this evening that she had heard this words. All the Northerners needed was time, all Jon needed was time. She was sick of this expression. Because what they most definitely didn’t have was time. They would face the Night King and his army sooner rather than later and if they wanted to win, everyone, - Jon and herself included, needed a clear head. But how could they when there were news like this? And lies, so many lies. Here she was again not capable of shaking the word out of her mind.

“His whole life is build on a lie,” Dany just responded not entirely convinced that it would be that easy for Jon to come to terms with this revelation.

“Yours too,” Bran replied with a deep voice.

“Yes. Everything could’ve been different.”

For the first time since the revelations she was able to hold a thought and an image of what her stolen life might have looked like appeared in her mind. She could’ve been been raised in Westeros. Her family wouldn’t have been slaughtered. House Targaryen would still rule over the seven kingdoms. Her brother Rhaegar, beloved by the whole kingdom, would’ve been the successor of her father Aerys II. And she, just the third of his children and a girl on top of that, would not even have been considered for the Throne. And as much as she disliked her own unimportance in this scenario, she would’ve had her family. It would have been a whole different but less lonelier life.

A loud crack of the fire brought her back into the present and she stopped her trail of thoughts. People tended to simplify things in order to comfort themselves and it wouldn’t do anything good to dream up a what if.

If Robert hadn’t lied about Lyanna’s abduction, would she really have lived a happier life in Westeros?

It would be easy to blame him for everything. But that would be another lie, a lie to herself. It wasn’t just Robert’s untrue claims that made House Targaryen come tumbling down. It was a chain of lies and wrong decisions, piled on top of each other until everything fell apart.

The years-long secretiveness about the madness of her father and the inactivity of everyone around him. The actions of her brother Rhaegar to fled with his love but not confess to it and the untrue version of the events told by Robert Baratheon, who took his chance and overthrew the King.

No, it didn’t do any good to dream up a what if. What if’s, as alluring as they were, were swells of remorse and sorrow in the end. She lived in the here and now. Her life hadn’t been like that. And nothing could change it.

“Why did you tell me?”, she asked Bran suddenly curious. It would’ve been wiser to leave her in the unclear about her reduced position in the line of heritage to the throne. After all Sam and Bran didn’t know her. They couldn’t be sure, that she wouldn’t sneak into Jon’s room at night and kill her predecessor.

“He would’ve told you anyway.” Bran stated and looked at her without any identifiable emotion on his face.

“But how can you be sure, I wouldn’t hurt him?”, she asked the question surely everyone else would be wondering about in a matter like this. But Bran didn’t even flinch, he just looked at her with a knowledge glistering in his eyes.

“I’m the three eyed raven. I can see things of the past and the present. I saw you Daenerys Targaryen”, he explained. “You wouldn’t hurt him.”

A shiver went down her spine and she opened her mouth in response but the words stuck in her throat. Jon had told her that Bran had visions and she even witnessed the truth of them herself when she had flown beyond the wall but nevertheless she was taken by surprise that he had watched her.

“You thought you were the only Targaryen left. You’re not.” Bran added after a few seconds of silence and the truth of his words hit her hard.

For years she had thought that she was the last of her house, alone in the world. She had come to terms with it, been proud of being the last of her kinsman to be still standing. It gave her strength and made her believe in herself even more. And she had used it as a shield, like the day Jon had come to Dragonstone. She had thought to herself then, that no matter what this King in the North would or wouldn’t do, he couldn’t hurt her or let her self-confidence waver. _Because she was Daenerys Targaryen, the last of her kind._

But deep down, in parts of herself she showed rarely, because people and sometimes even she herself tended to interpreted it as weakness, she had always longed for a family. Aside from Viserys she knew of her own only through books and stories. She had never met her parents or Rhaegar. But now a piece of her unknown brother unexpectedly found it’s way back to her. Everything she had learned tonight might be overwhelming and put her whole world upside down but she couldn’t be mad at this revelation, because now she had a family again. Someone she was bonded by blood with. The man she loved already.

“Here it is.” Sam rushed back into Bran’s chambers with a huge book in his hands.

What followed was a formality. Because by now Dany knew, that everything this two men had said tonight was true. Jon being a Targaryen answered so many questions she didn’t realize she had. It was as if the last piece of the puzzle that was Jon Snow was solved. Sam put the book on a table and turned a few pages until he found the right paragraph and showed it to her. She looked at the written words and nodded in acceptance.

“Thank you, Sam.”

“No problem, your grace”, he grabbed the book and looked at her again. “I will go talk to him.”

Her heart longed to say, that she was the one who should go. But her brain sensed, that Jon needed to contemplate everything. She might gained a family member but he had lost a father, he had looked up to his whole life. She didn’t mind that they were related but in his family it was rare that you were with someone of your own blood. And then there was the matter of the crown, that she had fought for these last years and that should suddenly be his ...

She wouldn’t give it up.

_She couldn’t._

She just knew that she was born to rule the seven kingdoms, felt the confidence in that buzzing through every fiber of her being. But she also knew, that Jon believed that too. He had chosen her as his queen even though it would’ve been wiser not to. He gave up to be a King, - for her.

They might had discovered tonight, that he was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne but he would never take it from her. She was sure of it because she understood the way his mind and his heart worked. He wasn’t a man hungry for power, he just wanted people to be save. It was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him.

She wanted to talk to him about everything. Wanted to help him come to terms with it. But he wouldn’t want to talk to her, not the way he had let go of her hand and left without a glance. So she just nodded and watched Sam heading off towards Jon’s chambers.

“I will retire for the night then too”, she excused herself to Bran shortly after. Fully knowing, that she would lie awake the whole night thinking. And wishing Jon would lay beside her.

***

The crypt was dimly lightened but Jon could still make out Ned’s stony face. He nestled against the opposite wall of the statue with Ghost at his feet. His fingers buried deep in the fur of his direwolf who purred satisfied at his master's touch. Jon was far away from that feeling, but at least Ghost’s presence consoled him after everything that went down last night. The wall behind him pressed cold into his back, even through the sick layers of his winter coat. But he didn’t mind. He had tried to sleep but after hours of tossing and turning, he had finally given up and left the warmth of his chambers for the place he felt the presence of his father the most.

The first shock was over but now realization set in and there were too much thoughts that bickered for his attention. The meeting would start soon and he hadn’t been able to come up with a good idea how to approach the Night King and his army. At the word king his thoughts always trailed off, to the new information that he was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. He wished he could have laughed at the absurdity of it all, but all he was able to do was to sink deeper into his stormy sea of thoughts.

“Here you are. I was looking for you.” Davos accent filled voice cut through the heavy silence. His adviser entered the crypt and came to a halt beside him.“Everything alright?”, he looked down on him, a half smile plastered on his face, clearly oblivious to Jon’s bad mood.

“Actually, no.” Jon answered honestly without lifting his head. Most other people he would’ve sent away but he trusted this man he had grown so close with and could use his life experienced advice.

“Not the answer I’d expected but okay.” Davos sat down and waited patiently for Jon to explain himself, who needed a moment to decide where to begin.

“Davos, we’ve known each other for some time now. And you’ve been a good friend and adviser to me.”

“I, at least hope so.” Davos chimed in.

“You’ve to promise me to not tell anyone, what I’m about to tell you.”

As far as Jon knew there would be five people alive knowing about the secret, after he would’ve told Davos. And albeit Jon tried to live as a honorable man, he wasn’t sure when and if this secret was something worth spreading. He despised lies. Lies were the reason for so much chaos in the world. Even for the situation he found himself in now. And a part of him scorned himself for just thinking to add something to the ever growing bulk of untruth that surrounded them all. But he just didn’t know what to do with his new knowledge. At least not yet.

“I promise.”

“Bran told me something last night.”

“That sounds ominous.” Davos joked lightly and Jon couldn’t help but shot Davos a look that signified: This was something serious. The older man fell silent immediately. And Jon turned his gaze away because otherwise he wouldn’t have found the courage to say the truth out loud. He eyed Ned’s statue again. It didn’t look like him at all. But it didn’t matter because when Jon shut his eyes he could conjure his features without effort. He remembered his kind eyes and his proud smile. All the lessons he had taught him, the love he had given him. And Jon realized that these things weren't all lies but some part of him tried to make out which parts were. What had Ned been thinking this whole time, when he had looked at him? And did he ever planned to tell him the truth? Jon was aware that he would never get answers to these questions. Ned had been gone for a long time and the answers with him.

“I’m not Ned Stark's son.”

His words followed a heavy breath. They sounded wrong coming from his lips. Ned Stark was the only father he had ever known. When people had dismissed him as a Bastard, he had always reminded himself that it didn’t matter as much because he still descended from something good, - his father. Except now Ned wasn’t his father anymore. “I’m the son of his sister Lyanna.”

Davos stayed silent for a moment, as if to ease down everything Jon had just said.

“So you still a Stark then”, he finally concluded.

“Aye.” Jon confirmed and needed to take a deep breath in order to say the next sentence. “And a Targaryen.”

He didn’t say it with conviction. He was a Stark, a Snow. Not a Targaryen. Dany was the Targaryen, not him. And at the thought of her he got on fast with his news in an attempt to push her emerging image from his mind. “My father was Rhaegar Targaryen”, he almost swallowed the words. That was definitely a sentence he never had expected to say in his life.

“He is sure about that?” Davos asked carefully. Where his expression was collected a second ago, his eyes were now opened wide in a mixture of disbelief and concern. Jon just nodded in response. It was hard for him to tell the news he had gotten tonight. A part of him felt the uncomfortable truth of them slowly sinking in but another part felt like he was telling the tale of someone else's life.

”I’m not even a Bastard.“ The words tumbled out of his mouth, arduous and messy. As if they were glued to his tongue. _He was a bastard_ , was all he could think of in that moment. _He was a bastard._ It was the one thing that he had been reminded of incessantly during all his years.

“But that would make you …” Davos caught up with the meaning behind that revelation and Jon could just respond with a simple, “Aye.”

Silence spread between them, both of them processing this new truth.

“That surely is some information.” Davos finally admitted after some time.

“I don’t want it. I didn’t even want to be King in the North. I don’t want to be King of all these kingdoms and besides there’s a good chance I won’t survive the coming war. So all of it doesn’t matter anyway.” Jon spat out all the words that lingered inside him the moment Bran had declared him heir to the Iron Throne. He had never chased power, it had always been given to him and he shouldered it’s burden every day. He tried to take it with grace, to be worthy of the trust all his people put into him, to do the right thing and save them all. It was never power he had longed for, instead he was yearning for righteousness and peace.

“I know you don’t see yourself as a ruler. But you’re a good one. And you would make a good King for Westeros.”

Jon just shot Davos another side eye.

“Does the Queen know?”

Dany’s image appeared before his eyes again and he needed to swallow. She was the one destined for the throne not him and he was aware that he should tell this to her. But this was the only answer he got right now and it wasn’t enough.

“She was with me when Bran told us.”

“And?” Davos stared at him expectantly.

“I haven’t talk to her since. I wouldn’t know what to say. I have a claim to her throne and”, he paused a moment and breathed in deeply before he could say the words that sounded so false on his tongue, “we’re related, Davos.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Davos murmured as if he hadn’t thought about that. “Well, at least she’s not your sister.”

It was something absurd to say but it lightened the mood, both of them not capable of keeping a straight face even if it were just indications of smiles and sad one’s at that.

“She’s my aunt.” It pained him to say these words out loud. He loved Dany. Loved her like no one else before. In the beginning it had scared him how deep he could feel for someone. How someone that was a stranger just months ago, could suddenly be this essential to him. But with time he got to understand this feelings better and learned to trust them. Up to the point where he could finally imagine things he had thought weren’t in the cards for him. A wife, a family. But could he still want any of this now that he knew what they did was condemned as wrong?

It was so strange to just have these thoughts. It was as if he didn’t recognize his life anymore. Some years ago he was a boy who’s biggest problem was the disdain of his father’s wife and now he pored over problems like how to save humanity, a heritage to the throne and incest. Suddenly his whole body felt cold and he was on the verge of shaking.

“In House Targaryen it’s not uncommon to marry someone of your own blood.”

Davos stated matter of factly and Jon was astonished by his lack of disgust. But then he remembered, that Davos had lived at times were the Targaryen's had reigned over the country and it was accepted by everyone that they chose someone out of their own bloodline to be with.

“Marry?” The word escaped him with a sigh. He had thought about marrying Dany before but that seemed so far away now.

“Oh com’ on. I’m no fool Jon. I see what’s happening between the two of you.”

It wasn’t really a surprise to Jon that his adviser knew about everything. He had been aware that he was bad at hiding his affection for her. This was just the confirmation.

“Besides a marriage would solve that crown problem for you.” Davos continued. ”You could rule together. I would say so far you both did a good job as allies.”

Jon couldn’t denounce that. But this was an option he couldn’t pursue right now. Because he needed to find answers on his other questions first.

“I don’t know what to do, Davos”, he admitted in a tone, that left no speculation that he was absolutely overwhelmed by all of this.

“How about you go to that meeting with me first?” his adviser suggested friendly and rose from his sitting position. He outstretched a hand to Jon who looked at it for a few seconds, as if he needed time to push away all his thoughts in corners of his mind where they won’t disturb the important meeting ahead of them and took it.

***

They met in the Great Hall. Just a few of them, the leaders of their armies, like Greyworm, their advisers and some of Jon’s battle-tested lords. Dawn was breaking and it’s dimmed light found it’s way through the openings in the wall of the castle. As did the coldness of the icy temperature outside that even the fireplace couldn’t cast out. And Jon saw the man from the warmer countries shivering from time to time, even though everyone dressed in their thick winter coats.

Tyrion was standing beside him, both of their gazes fixed on the map of the north on the table in front of them. Dany and Missandei hadn’t arrived yet and Jon found his gaze wandering to the door continuously. Where her presence had started to calm him in this last weeks he was now nervous again at the pure thought of confronting her. He willed his mind to focus on the map again and not be overpowered by his troubled emotions. The people in the north needed him. And what they were preparing for was bigger than Dany or him or whatever was between them. So he tried to study the map.

“There should be here by now”, Jon pointed to a spot in front of the drawing of the wall.

The Night King was marching towards Last Hearth and they needed to help the people who lived there. But with their armies it would take 10 days to get there at least and the army of the Undead could get there in 5 to 6. No matter how fast Daenerys and he prepared their armies for departure. _They couldn’t get there in time._

The wooden doors of the room opened with a loud creaking and Daenerys and Missandei walked inside. At her sight Jon’s throat tightened. She looked beautiful as ever and also regal and dignified. There were no visible signs that suggested she got life changing news last night. And a part of him was jealous that she had her emotions so well in check but another part was proud of the dignified queen she was. She belonged on the throne no matter his heritage.

“I think we’re complete then”, he declared promptly and looked away from her. It was easier to concentrate at the task ahead when he was not looking at her. In a few words he told them about what Bran had seen the other night and urged them all to act quickly.

“Bran had seen them last heading towards Last hearth. We need to help them”, he finished.

“But we won’t make it there in time with our men”, Sir Jorah came to the same conclusion as Jon.

“Yes.” Jon admitted.

“With my dragons I can be there within a day.” Daenerys proposed and he could help but flinch lightly at her words. He had known that she would suggest it even before she spoke it out loud. She was willing to do anything to defeat the White Walkers and although he admired her unwavering boldness and hope, he feared for her safety.

“It’s too dangerous, my queen.” Tyrion objected. “For you and for your children.”

“I know that it’s dangerous”, she cut in directly. “But it will buy us some time till our armies arrive.”

“He is right, my queen. It would be a suicide mission.” Varys sided with him.

“Than what are you proposing, we should do?” she asked with a sharp voice.

“Cersei’s men should be in the north by now. Depending on their location they could get there faster than us.” Tyrion presented his idea and in Jon's head it still sounded crazy that they spoke of the Lannister Queen as an ally in this war. And he recognized that a lot of the faces around him looked unconvinced. Dany's included.

“That’s not a plan, that’s a vague hope”, she said and Jon couldn’t denounce that. They needed a real plan, with feasible actions and no wishful thinking. “I can fly there”, she added confident.

“And what if we lose another dragon?” Tyrion asked plainly and the whole room fell silent. Despite his intentions Jon’s gaze lingered on Dany. He saw the battle between her determination and fear right across her face. She had not only lost Viserion, she learned that he had become a monster and she was still in pain about it. As if she sensed him staring her eyes fell onto his. Guilt washed over him like a wave. She was in pain and he had left her alone. Too absorbed in his own emotions.

“Last hearth just has a few hundred men for defense. You wouldn’t stand a chance”, he finally admitted with soft spoken words. “If we lose another dragon we’re done.”

Their gazes fixated onto each other across the huge table. She didn’t like the idea of doing nothing that one was clear but she also realized the truth of his words. It took her a while but then she nodded in acceptance.

“So does anyone else has an idea?” she asked into the group. And they all looked at each other with expectant faces.

“They could leave.” Missandei suggested after some time and everyone looked at her for further explanation.

“You mean they should abandon Last Hearth?” Dany asked.

“Yes. The Night King doesn’t want the land, does he? He wants the people on the land for his army.”

“They don’t need to defend their property, that’s not what he is after.” Tyrion approved pensively.

Jon’s gaze fell back towards the map. Missandei was right. They didn’t have to get to Last Hearth in time, they just needed to meet the people of Last Hearth in time. And a place benefiting for a fight.

“They could march towards Long Lake, we could meet them there. It’s a good location for a battle.” He declared and pointed towards the huge lake on the map.

“How many days would it take us to get there?” Dany asked already on board with the plan.

“Depending on the weather. 4 to 5 days.” Jon answered her and they started to discuss the details.

“Nevertheless, we should inform Cersei and ask her to join us there”, Jon concluded.

“You really think she will help?” One of his lords asked in disbelief. And he didn’t know what to respond. So he looked at Tyrion in hope that Cersei’s brother had an answer. Who nodded in understanding.

“Not out of her good heart”, Tyrion explained, “that’s for certain. But even she doesn’t want to die at the arms of a dead man and become one herself. So yes, she will.”

The lord nodded but his face showed that he didn’t believe a word. And Jon couldn’t blame him. He didn’t trust her either but he tried to be confident about their alliance.

“We will send her a raven. We need all the help we can get”, Dany decided with confident words but Jon recognized that she did it with reluctance.

“There’s one more problem.” Jorah warned them with caring eyes. “We don’t have enough weapons ready.”

Jon had thought about that too. The blacksmiths did all they could to forge real weapons like swords and axes out of the Dragonglass. But it took time and there wouldn’t be nearly enough weapons ready for every soldier when they set off tomorrow.

“We simply don’t have the time to forge weapons for everyone. We need to leave tomorrow or we won’t make it to Long Lake in time”, Jon answered. The dissatisfaction about it clearly audible in his voice. “Most men will have to fight with the rough pieces of Dragonglass we have.”

“I could wait with my departure.” Daenerys proposed, her gaze wandering over Jorah, Tyrion and Jon. “I could stay at Winterfell for a few more days. It would give the blacksmiths more time to forge weapons. My dragons are strong enough to transport them to Long Lake and I could catch up with you in time.”

It sounded absolutely reasonable and Jon knew he had to be in favor of the plan, because there was no logical reason to be against it. Nevertheless, he wasn’t font of the idea to leave Dany alone at Winterfell, even if it was his home. Jorah, who always advocated Dany’s safety, was right. There were still Northerners who wished to harm her and he feared that without him, the Warden of the North, they would be more inclined to do so.

“Then I will stay by your side, my queen.” Jorah volunteered and Jon wasn’t surprised. It was obvious that he cared a lot for her. Maybe a little bit too much for his liking. He watched them exchanging looks, a wordless conversation only confidants where capable of, and felt that familiar sting of jealousy. But had he still the right to feel that way?

“Me too.” Tyrion declared. “It’s a reasonable plan. We need all the weapons we can get.”

Dany’s gaze fell on Jon and he realized that to the others it must look exactly like her previous exchange with Jorah had looked to him. Intimate. She wanted to hear his opinion.

And he realized something else. They worked well together, carving out a solution until everyone was satisfied. She was the solid ally he had needed in this war, but hadn’t allowed himself to hope for. They might not know each other a long time but in these past months they had been through so much. It glued them together. Both of them could never simply step away from that. And because of it he had to stop his cowardness and talk to her.

“I will make sure you got everything you need for your prolonged stay, my queen”, he approved.

When the meeting was done and the group dispersed he walked over to her. Her eyes evidently taken aback by his sudden approach.

“Can we talk?”, he asked and his heart ached with a dozen emotions regarding her.

“Sure.” Her voice sounded almost calm but the trembling of her lips betrayed her. And at the sight of her lips the last bit of his calmness vanished. Everything inside him yearned to be with her and call this self-imposed distance bullshit. But he knew it wasn't that easy.

“Tyrion and I want to talk to our army first, but afterwards?”

“Ok. In the godswood at midday?”

She agreed and left the room with Tyrion. He looked after her, although she was already long gone.

***

After the meeting Jon walked through Winterfell with Sansa, both of them supervising the preparations for their approaching departure. Sansa put him up to date with everything and he was proud that she fitted so well into the role he entailed her with. They went by the blacksmiths and saw Gendry working with the others to forge the Dragonglass into weapons. They worked quickly but precise and it was easy to identify the quality of their work. It would be good to have as much of these weapons as they could get.

“Jon”, Arya's voice sounded from behind him and he turned around. It was still extraordinary for him to hear her calling his name again and lovely ordinary simultaneously.

“I want to come with you”, she stated confidently and stepped towards him.

For a second he thought he hadn’t hurt right but then he recognized her determination in the way she held her body and elongated her chin. She meant it and it reminded him once again, that she wasn’t that little girl he used to know anymore.

“Where I’m going it will be very dangerous.” He told her even though he knew that she wasn’t naive but the caring brother inside of him just wished her out of harm's way.

“I know”, she assured him and her once innocent eyes mirrored now the harsh reality with all it’s pain and brutality.

He had heard some of the things she had done and the skills she acquired and it wasn’t hard for him to imagine his fierce little Arya as a strong-willed warrior. And they needed every capable soldier they could get. But still, - a lot of people would die in this war and he didn’t want Arya to be one of them. She recognized his hesitation and draw her sword.

“Than let me show you why you should take me with you”, she dared him playfully but nonetheless resolutely and he couldn’t help but be surprised and impressed by it.

The moment she faced him with needle he had been aware that it would be useless to try to talk her out of this idea. She had already made up her mind and wouldn’t back down. And who was he to bar her from fighting? She was her own person. Always had been even when she was a kid. And he had always known, that she wasn't build for fine dresses and housekeeping but for adventure. So he didn’t back down from her challenge and drew his sword too.

“Ok. Show me what you got”, he prodded her.

She was the first to make a move which he warded off easily. But so did she when he tried to attack her. It was rapidly clear that this would be an even fight. They didn’t haste any of their blows. Instead they encircled each other, learned how their counterpart moved and considered their strikes. The longer their fight endured the more fun Jon had with it. Arya and him had always been playful with each other and he was glad that maturity didn’t change that. And after everything that had happened the last 24 hours, it was a welcome distraction from all the sorrow gnawing at his heart.

With time their fight got more fierce. He pushed her backwards but she spun out of his reach with an almost elegant move. Blade clashed on blade. And although hers was small in comparison to Longclaw she used needle very wisely. It got on like that for minutes but when she tried to grab her dagger from her belt to finish him off he used her one second of inattention and brought Longclaw to her neck. She stopped her motion immediately and looked up to him. At first she seemed upset about losing but then a big smile spread on her face, which he could only reciprocate.

“I would have been disappointed if you’d lost”, she teased him and he let go off her.

He had recognized that she'd changed but he hadn’t fully understood it till now. She was a fighter, no doubt about that and he would be lucky to have her join him in this war.

“You can come”, Jon finally agreed and her smile grew even wider.

The few people around them started to cheer and they put their swords away.

“That was really cool.” Gendry praised from behind his anvil.

“It was.” Jon agreed and if he didn’t know better he could have sworn that his fierce warrior-sister blushed.

***

Winterfell wasn’t pretty, thought Dany as she wandered over the estate. The gray stone that peaked through the snow couldn’t hide it’s roughness. Everything here was colorless and hard. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t like it. Though it was hard, fireplaces had never been so cozy to her and though it was colorless it made the deep red heart tree located at the godswood even more breathtakingly beautiful. She had read about this trees and what they stood for and she comprehended that they were special to the people in the North.

A chilly blast dragged at her clothes and whirled the loose streaks of her braid around. The coldness didn’t exactly bother her but she felt it increasing with every passing day and it became an analogy for her: the colder it got, the closer the army of the dead got. Their meeting had proved it. Time had been running out. _The great war was here._

For weeks she had known that this moment would come but with everything that had happened between Jon and her, she wished she had more time. Because even though she was fiercely determined to defeat the Night King, she was also no fool and knew that the risk that one or maybe even both of them could lose their life in this endeavor, was real.

She came to a halt near the heart tree, still quite some distance away. Here he was with his head bend down in thought. They were so many things she wanted to say to him. So many things she wanted to do. But it would all need to wait, perhaps even forever. What she would give to have just one more morning with him, like the ones on the boat. Snuggled beneath a blanket, wrapped in each others arms. On the verge of night and day. When they were not ready to let each other go yet and used every precious minute to steal a kiss, a touch, an intimate conversation more to endure the looming day.

Jon recognized her before she could speak and shot her a woeful glance. He didn’t meant it in a rejecting way, there was still an intimacy in his eyes, but it felt colder than the icy wind around her. Since the moment they had met they’d gravitated towards each other, a little bit closer every day, but now it seemed the pull between them had ended and, for the first time, he withdrew himself from her.

“I’m sorry I ran away last night. I don’t know what came over me. I was just overwhelmed I guess”, he admitted and Dany saw the guilt in his eyes and wished she could wipe it away. He didn’t choose any of this but still he felt responsible for it. It was a behavior she noticed often with him. He burdened himself with responsibility, always trying to right the wrongs.

“It’s okay”, she assured him. “That were some tough news for both of us.”

“I would never take the throne from you”, he clarified with firmly spoken words.

Did he really think that was her biggest worry? That she could lose power?

“I know. That’s not what I meant”, she breathed in deeply starting to form the right explanation in her head. “I meant that I learned that my brother wasn’t the kidnapper everyone claimed him to be and that I had lived a life in exile because of lies on both sides.”

He looked at her and she saw the understanding glimmering in his eyes. Both their life’s had fallen victim to false words, which had held so much power that their courses had been forever changed.

“Does anyone tell the truth anymore?”, he said in a low voice more to himself than to her. And she could imagine what he must be thinking. When even Ned, the most righteous man he knew, lied in this huge proportions was there anyone left in this world not capable of lying?

“You do.” It escaped her lips quietly but firm.

“And I’m a fool for it, aren’t I?”

“No. No it’s one of the things I admire about you. This life hasn’t twisted you yet. You’re something pure in this messy world.”

He shook his head with a wry smile on his face.

“Pure”, he led the word dance across his tongue. “I killed hundreds of men, I haven’t kept my vow and slept with a wildling woman, I died and my body rotted for days until I was resurrected and”, he paused for a moment and caught her gaze, “I fell in love with my aunt.”

Dany needed to swallow. It was the first time he used that word. Love. Yet she imagined it always under different circumstances. Not necessarily happy ones but in her imagination his declaration was always an acknowledged truth. Something powerful they both hang on to. Now it sounded like a problem to him.

“I’m not pure. Far from it.”

Involuntarily she stepped a little bit closer. There it was again, the never ending pull she felt towards him.

“You’re to me. I know you don’t want to be a Targaryen. But I don’t mind. Since my brother died I always thought I was the last of our blood. Alone in this world. But now I know that I’m not. That you, - you of all people”, she couldn’t stop her eyes from watering, “are my family.”

Jon looked at her again and all iciness vanished, replaced by this soft look of him that tugged at her heartstrings.

“I want to be your family. I want that for some time now but in a different way.”

It hurt her to hear this confession and get it ripped away from her the same moment.

“I don’t know how to feel about all of this yet. I’m sorry. I wish I would be as certain as you but I’m not.” His voice almost cracked and her heart beat so heavy in her chest every breath seemed hard.

“I understand that.” She wished she could be angry with him. That she could hit him with harsh words to lift some of the pain she was feeling. But how could she be mad at him when she got where his rejection was coming from? “I was raised as a Targaryen. The idea to be with someone of your own blood was never foreign to me. But it is to you. I get that.” Even though it broke her heart.

“It is foreign to me but you’re not. But I just don’t know what that means”, he explained with a note of despair in his voice.

“So what now?”, she asked even though she knew she would get the answer she hated so much.

“Just give me some time.”

And of course she would give it to him. Because what else was there to do beside being patient and hope that someday he would love her again without shame?

***

The raven arrived at dawn. A strong bird with feathers as black as the armor of the Night's Watch and as thick as the fur of the Northerners. It was without a doubt one of the Bastards ravens, Cersei thought when she caught the sight of it ascending to the castle. She was standing on the balcony, a glass of red wine in her hand, looking over King’s Landing. It looked so different in the winter. Were it once was colorful and warm it was now gray and cold. But beautiful, she contemplated. It looked beautiful. Like a kingdom made of ice. It didn’t take long for one of her servants to arrive with the massage in hand.

“A massage from Winterfell, my queen”, the young girl said and bowed before her.

Cersei didn’t even recognize the respectful gesture, she just grabbed the scroll out of the girls hand and send her away.Curiosity took over when she opened the scroll in a hurry. Of course it was from Tyrion and not the Bastard himself. Her darling brother really seemed to think he could influence her.

_-The Undead broke through the wall a few days ago. We’re gathering our troops immediately and will walk towards Long Lake to meet there with the men of Last Hearth. We’re asking you to do the same.-_

Her lips curled up in a half smile. He actually believed she would help them from now on. It would almost be sweet if it weren’t so pathetic. He could ask all he wanted, even begged her if he liked, but she would never help that bitch of a wannabe queen and her lapdog, the Stark Boy. Her fingers crumbled the paper in her hand. She would answer them that her army would be on their way. Should they think that she was willing to help and be terrified when they finally understood that no help was coming. It would be just one lie more. It didn’t matter to her. In this never ending game of thrones everyone was a liar. And she was a good one.

With her plan in mind she took one more sip of her wine. Should her idiot brothers confederate with the Dragon Queen, she didn’t need them. All she needed was herself. There might have been a time when she had been acquainted with loneliness and Jamie had been the only one capable to cast it away. But this time was gone. It didn’t matter to her anymore how good it had felt to be fucked by him or how much she had loved the power she had over him. How he had never been able to resist her advances and always caved into the sensation of taking her hard and making her scream in pleasure. No, nothing of it was important anymore. She pushed all of these memories aside, locked every feeling deep away in the dark corners of her heart, she neglected. Jamie had chosen his side and forfeited every possibility of reconciliation with it.

She was stronger than any nostalgia or affection he could evoke. Stronger than Jamie. Stronger than both of her brothers. She gulped the rest of the wine down her throat. They would see that no one messes with Cersei Lannister.

***

At night Winterfell got quiet. The people hid behind closed doors, the noise ebbed away with them and the light, almost dazzling at day due to all the snow, faded into darkness. Dany walked over the floor to her chambers. She had paid a visit to her men, preparing them for their departure in the morning. Her whole body and mind ached in exhaustion. Since they had arrived yesterday everything had been chaos.

The lords who didn’t want her as their queen, the information that the army of the Undead was nearer than they had thought and the reveal that Jon was a Targaryen. It had been a long 48 hours and all she wanted to do was sleep. Last night her stirring emotions hadn’t let her but now her body started to feel heavy and it would claim some much needed rest as soon as she’d laid down. It would be for the best. She didn’t want to stay awake with all the thoughts rambling through her head and the sadness that loomed over her heart. That was the problem with love, Dany contemplated. You felt everything more deeply. The good and the bad.

She sought for her room with a candle in her hand, lightning her the way. Winterfell was much larger than she had imagined and it took her a while to get the right one. As most doors at this place it made a light creaking noise when she opened it and she stepped inside. She saw the big wooden bed in front of her and she couldn’t wait to lay down in it’s soft and warm blankets. Even though she yearned for an entirely different warmth, if she was to be honest. But she didn’t knew if she would ever feel it again. How could she already miss something as if it were essential to her, if she just had it for a short while anyway? And when had Jon’s and her life entangled so much with each other that it was impossible to disjoin them ever again?

The door closed with a dull thud behind her and she moved over to the bedside table putting the candle down. She wouldn’t find the answers to this questions tonight but hopefully she would find some rest instead. But the moment she ended that thought a noise from behind startled her. Dany turned around instantly. Not thinking about her movement, just acting out of instinct.

The room was incredibly dark but she spotted the shadow rising up in front of her regardless. Her eyes widened in shock and her heartbeat that was calm just seconds ago pounded almost hurtful in her chest. She wanted to scream, to make herself known to the others that laid just a few meters distance from her but everything happened so fast, she didn’t get a chance. The dark figure grabbed her hard and she saw the blade in it’s right hand, shining in the candle light. The intruder would shove it into her body if she didn’t act fast. It’s pointy end was already moving towards her heart.

Her throat went dry. She needed an idea. Now! With shaking hands she grabbed the candle from behind her and pushed it into the figures eyes. It cried out in pain and let the blade slip out of it’s hands in an attempt to fumble for the injury. Dany used the second of distraction to run for the door. But her attacker recovered quickly and stopped her before she even got close, clasping her body with strong hands like a bird in the grasp of a lion.

“We know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark”, the voice of a man whispered agitated into her ear. Some drops of his saliva rained down on her cheek and her whole body shivered in disgust. But somehow this awful sensation awakened her survival instinct even more. She hit him hard with her fists, scratched him with her fingernails, kicked him with her legs. Every small action that came to her mind. All the while she thought, that this couldn’t be the end for her. Not after everything she’d been through. She reminded herself of all the situations in which her life could’ve ended and that she had come out of all of them stronger than before.

_No! She wouldn’t die like this._

Not tonight.

She felt herself calm a little bit and then she was finally able to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I really am sorry, that it took me forever to update. This chapter was a hard nut to crack. It has only a few similarities with the one I had in mind first. (But I think that's the exciting part of writing because you never really know, where the story might take you.) And when I finally finished this chapter, I lost my beta reader and needed to find a new one. So I want to give huge thanks to my dear friend Nancy for correcting!
> 
> I sincerely hope that it will never again take so long for a new chapter to be published. I just want to affirm you that I love writing this story and I will not abandon it. 
> 
> And lastly I want to thank you for your patience and hope that you liked the new chapter. I know that there was a lot of drama and angst in it. But I promise it won't be like that for too long :-)
> 
> Your St_orygirl


End file.
